How do you even review a book like this. This 'poetic novel' totally defies any literary style I've ever read, and that's saying something. There is such poise and keenness in pace, driving us through the book's metamorphic soaring of the characters, versus themselves, versus a compelling setting...
Histórias dispersas que entroncam numa história primordial: A de John Clare, o poeta camponês, internado no asilo de loucos de Mathew Allen na Floresta de Epping.A premissa é extraordinária mas o emaranhado de personagens que intervêm à margem da história principal não acrescenta grande valor à o...
Bright clouds. People working in the garden. Mary stood in the rush of the day and watched them. How they suffered as they went about their tasks, muttering to themselves or instructing the air, laughing at nothing, shaking their arms, twitching, rocking back and forth, closing their eyes suddenl...
The immense, painful light of the sky dropped onto him. His mouth was full. He wrenched himself over onto his stomach and coughed, hawking hard to dislodge a gritty paste at the back of his tongue. He stood up and started walking, falling forwards and catching himself with each stride. He walked ...